I'm pretty schmammered right now, but that's probably the best time
to write in earnest of the self. I'm fresh to Oahu from Maui after
a deportation from Scotland (Message me, I'll make it into a
raucous affair) peering into this murky depth for any sort of
connection I can get. I'm rather alone at the moment, and my hours
of work keep me from being socially accessible otherwise. (Mid day
till midnight, essentially).

I'm going to UH to become either A: an ambassador (because how
sweet would that be) or B: a writer...with any job I can scrounge
up to make a living and not starve to death on the side. As it
stands, though, I'm working at Queen's as a Security guard, biding
time until the new year. Terribly alone for the moment. It's a
cryin' shame!

I've been told that I'm a chucklemeister of sorts, but that's
really not something that I can assess with any degree of artistic
integrity. I do enjoy writing, though, and that's something that
I've been generally recognized as interesting while doing. (I
reaaallly shouldn't be writing this while intoxicated, but I'll
never get around to it otherwise).

I can't place a favorite on anything, but some of my top picks for
books are: The Importance of Being Earnest, 100 Years of Solitude,
David Copperfield, and Survivor. They're all rather grand. Beyond
that I'm about as affected as a devout Taoist (not particularly).